


lull before the storm

by anomalousGreenhorn



Category: Fairy Tale Reform School - Jen Calonita
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Implied/Referenced past abusive relationship, POV Third Person, Pining, Slow Burn, an underage character takes a sip of spiked punch, bi gilly, brief jax/gilly and kayla/jocelyn, i Know gilly's white on the covers and im casually ignoring that, i swear i dont hate jocelyn i just. let myself get carried away, i swear it's a happy fic!!!, i'm sorry all these tags are awful, it could be spiked with like.... magic or smth tho, lesbian kayla, mentions of original female characters - Freeform, this is basically my lifework.... i spent ages on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-25 22:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19754764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalousGreenhorn/pseuds/anomalousGreenhorn
Summary: —she doubled over with a case of the giggles, slipping off the ledge of the roof and hovering before them, her wings flapping furiously in the breeze. It was the way the light caught her eyes and her freckles and her wings, the way she looked so careless and free.Gilly thought Kayla was pretty in a way that transcended how you might acknowledge your best friend as good-looking. Gilly thought Kayla wasbeautiful.——rather: Slowly, Gilly develops feelings for her best friend, and slowly, her life spirals out of her control.





	lull before the storm

**Author's Note:**

> for the record, i haven't read past book 2, and for all i know this could very well be the future of FTRS. enjoy!!

Tucked into some worn paperback she probably wouldn’t ever think of again, Gilly first heard her roommate murmur. She peeked around her book sheepishly and watched as Kayla stretched, back to Gilly, arms raised high and head lifted accordingly. The loose sleeves of her nightgown slid down her arms, gathering around her forearms. Her small, translucent wings poked between the two holes in the back of her dress. They fluttered some as though they were also sketching, golden flakes reflecting off and on and dancing around the room. 

Then Kayla dropped her arms, slowly turning her head toward Gilly. It felt like a physical thing, the shock of how radiant Kayla looked only moments after waking up. She flashed Gilly a stunning grin with those stunning lips and—

 _Ah_.

Gilly realized she was in _much. too. deep._

*******

She first noticed Kayla when they were fourteen.

Kayla, Jax, and herself were used to hanging out in places they didn’t belong, and the roof of the school building was a normal go-to spot. The three sat in a row, legs dangling off the edge. Catching a break for the first time in forever, they chatted as though they were typical school children taking a typical break between classes.

Perils only grew more perilous with time. Feelings only became more apparent.

Jax kept doing the slightest of things — “accidentally” brushing his knee against hers, holding doors open, offering to carry her books — and Gilly liked the attention, of course. But when he cracked that final joke about Headmistress Flora’s hair, that morning on the roof, it wasn’t his gestures that caught her eye.

It was Kayla’s, as she doubled over with a case of the giggles, slipping off the ledge of the roof and hovering before them, her wings flapping furiously in the breeze. It was the way the light caught her eyes and her freckles and her wings, the way she looked so careless and free.

Gilly thought Kayla was pretty in a way that transcended the way you acknowledged your best friend as good-looking. Gilly thought Kayla was _beautiful_.

*******

Once, they took a stroll through the orange grove. Just the two of them. 

Gilly was blabbing about what a stupid move it was on the teachers’ part, funding this garden. They were administrators of a reform school full of rowdy, criminal teenagers. Did they honestly believe any of the students cared about something so quaint?

(Gilly knew her classmates had no respect for beautiful things. It was why Kayla was always getting her heart broken by selfish, superficial girls, day in and day out.)

Kayla obviously hadn’t been too keen on hearing her rant. Without warning, her wings perked up, lifting her an inch or two off the ground, and she cut Gilly off mid-sentence.

“Gilly, did you _see_ Jax yesterday? In the cafeteria?”

Gilly frowned. “Of course I did. I was _there_.”

Kayla shook her head, sent her blonde locks flying. “You know what I mean. The way he kept touching your hand. The way he was _looking_ at you. He _so_ wants in your pants, Gilly-girl.”

Gilly shoved her hands into her pockets and turned her gaze down to her torn-up boots. She wanted to appear nonchalant, but knew better than to believe she’d actually succeeded in it. Kayla had recently become very interested in talking about the things adults censored out of books. Gilly… not so much. She didn’t see any reason to curse or talk about _those_ sorts of things when none of them were actually _doing_ it.

She stiffened when Kayla stuck a finger under her cheek, forcing Gilly to face her. “Is that a blush I see?” Kayla teased. “ _Ooh_ , you _like_ him, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” Playfully, she shoved Kayla away.

Her friend let out a little cheer and clapped, darting ahead. “Wait ‘til I tell Maxine! She’ll be so excited!”

Gilly chased after her. “You won’t be telling Maxine _anything_!”

They ran around the grove for a bit, laughing and jeering like a pair of tykes. They slept like babies that night, and it wasn’t Jax that Gilly dreamt about but Kayla, her wings sparkling against the sunset. 

*******

It was much simpler crushing on Kayla before Gilly actually thought of it as a proper crush.

Early on, she’d known she liked girls. It wasn’t something she had time to dwell on the first couple of years, whether she was stealing from the rich to feed her family or battling dragons in the middle of P.E. Even when things calmed down, it was easy to accept her interest in boys and girls alike — Jax had a charm to him she loved, albeit platonically, and looked quite dashing without a shirt, and Kayla… 

… that’s where it got tricky. Kayla was _Kayla_. She was everything. 

She was brutally honest and delicately sensitive. Funny, never sarcastic. Gentle and compassionate and vulnerable and tough. She loved everyone dearly — friends, family, strangers in the hall — and the passion she showed was unimaginable, in Gilly’s head. It wasn’t something she’d ever experienced.

But that first time when they were thirteen, in their dorm late at night, when she’d crawled under Gilly’s covers and whispered so, _so_ softly that she was dating Annabella, the elf girl from their potions class, Gilly’s heart soared. 

Two years later, she realized she wanted to be loved like Annabella and Moria and all the other girls that rotated in and out of their dorm. Gilly wanted _Kayla_.

  
*******  


Before such a realization, it was impossible for Gilly to understand what love songs were about. Or, more specifically, how they came to be.

How could one being possibly that spectacular? How could someone make you feel so strongly, and how could they be so amazing that you can’t help but use big, beautiful words to describe them? How could one person be so important to you if they weren’t your family?

She understood what a crush was, but not what it meant to be in love.

After Kayla, Gilly understood everything.

*******

They were sixteen. 

Kayla burst in far past curfew, and Gilly only stopped from lecturing her on reckless behavior when she noticed Kayla was beaming ear-to-ear and didn’t appear as though she planned on stopping.

“ _Xim_ ,” Kayla breathed. “She— I— _we_ …”

Kayla had a new girlfriend each week, maybe even each day. At the time it was a girl named Ximmi that Gilly had never even heard of before Kayla mentioned they were dating. She wasn’t positive Kayla even knew Xim’s surname.

Gilly wasn’t innocent, though. Her residence at the Fairy Tale Reform School was proof enough of that. She could tell by Kayla’s mangled hair and her rustled clothes, the sweat pouring down her neck, the way her lips were swollen and the way her eyes glowed like a thousand stars— she could tell what had happened. And she didn’t want to know. She definitely didn’t want to hear about it. 

Still, Kayla was her best friend, and best friends make sacrifices for each other.

So she plastered on a smile and waved Kayla forward, and she listened quietly as Kayla recalled everything she’d done with another girl in quiet whispers.

Ximmi broke up with her not even a day later.

(And not even a day after that, Gilly gave her a broken nose.)

*******

Gilly’s hatred of the school Balls began after their third year.

She had gone with Jax. That made him her first date, dead stop. No one else had ever showed interest in her, and she’d never shown interest in them. Kayla jumped on every chance she had to remind Gilly of how ‘sad’ her lack of a love life was.

Kayla had gone with a girl Gilly’s forgotten the name of. Not that she could ever forget the _girl_. She was the Anti-Gilly, as Gilly privately referred to her. Oval face, fair brown skin, and gorgeous long hair that curled into luscious natural waves. Gentle curves abound, and a fashion sense to match. She wasn’t too short or too tall, able to wear heels and still dance with Kayla. Her eyes— oh, her eyes were a breathtaking blue. 

(She certainly stole Kayla’s breath away.)

Gilly knew Anti-Gilly was Kayla’s first kiss. She knew they kissed on the porch after dark, when all their friends were too busy dancing inside the patio to notice they’d gone anywhere. It was the only year the Ball had been partially outside, at some farmhouse the school had rented out. Gilly sometimes wished it hadn’t been, even if that had been the happiest night of Kayla’s life, and even if Anti-Gilly had been Kayla’s longest-lasting relationship to date. 

_Gilly_ noticed they were missing. _Gilly_ wanted to go after them. But she didn’t, because Kayla was her best friend, and you don’t do those sorts of things to the friends you love. That’s what she kept telling herself.

*******

As Gilly became more self-reserved and quiet, Kayla became more uptight and secretive. Gilly learned why this was in the worst way possible, she thinks.

It was late. She had a huge exam in the morning and she’d crammed with Maxine all night. She was ready to collapse into her bed and stay there until at least eight the next Saturday. 

The lights were dim in their dorm, and so, assuming Kayla was already fast asleep, she entered the room cautiously. The sight she saw was… scarring, to say the least. 

Kayla was in bed, yes, but not by herself. There sat Jocelyn — _Jocelyn_ , of all the damned people on the good green Earth — with her thighs clutching Kayla’s waist, hands ripping at her hair, mouth slobbering against Kayla’s own.

Kayla had her body pressed into this girl like she needed her. Like _she_ , Jocelyn, was someone worth needing. Like she was someone that could provide Kayla with all the love she desired. 

Hands tangled in Jocelyn’s own hair, buttons undone for Gilly to see, eyes wide with shock, Kayla spoke to Gilly as though _she_ was the one committing some sort of mortal sin.

“Get. _Out_.”

And Gilly did so with pleasure.

Jocelyn had looked utterly out of place in Kayla’s arms. Her deathly pale skin contrasted Kayla’s own, which was the color of chocolate milk (fitting for someone so sweet — and, likewise, for someone so _rotten_ , rotten like a _corpse_ ). Her hair was as long and black as her clothes and was always pulled into some stupid tying contraption. Kayla’s was straight and blonde and stopped just underneath her adorable pointed ears. Kayla was small but bursting with positivity, while Jocelyn was tall and looming and mentally dark as the night.

Jocelyn was the devil, as far as Gilly was concerned, and seeing her with Kayla only further proved it. She’d finally tainted the one thing Gilly had been so sure she couldn’t touch. Gilly wasn’t sure what to do with herself. 

(At least she was able to hold back her tears until she reached Maxine’s room.)

*******

A short time later, she was patrolling the hallways with Jax after a soul-draining battle with mercenary goblin assassins. She was mouthing off Jocelyn, certain she was behind it. Ever since the Incident, Gilly felt no shame in blaming anything and everything on the sister of their loathed professor. 

At some point, Jax’s shoulder must have bumped her own. At some point, their hands must have linked, and then their arms. And at some point, they were too close for Gilly’s comfort. When she realized what was happening, she stopped in the middle of the empty hall and turned to him, face stoic.

Boys are idiots, Gilly’s learned, and Jax was no exception. He somehow managed to take it the wrong way. He leaned in, and yes, she could have told him _no_ and she could have ended his one-sided pining once and for all, but she didn’t. Because Kayla hadn’t shown up to classes in a week and Gilly wasn’t planning on returning to their dorm anytime soon. Because Gilly was sad and needed a distraction. 

(Call it taking advantage of. It is what it is.)

When they kissed, she felt nothing. There were no sparks or fireworks or desperate needs to passionately make out against a locker. She wondered if she and Jax simply weren’t clicking, or if all the storybooks had simply lied. 

After a few seconds, she stepped back, took Jax in as he was. The moonlight shone through the giant overhead windows and gave him a sort of magical glow. He’d never looked more like a royal. His fluffy blonde hair grazed the top of one eye in just the right manner, and his skin was the right amount of tan without looking plastic (even though he never left the school and he never lounged around outside). He’d grown so much in the last couple of years, with his shoulders so broad, his jaw strong, and his collarbone bold. His fancy-looking tunic was tight around his waist but unbuttoned a ways down, and everything about him was perfect.

He walked her to her dorm, his hand in hers, and before they parted ways, she gave him a goodnight peck. 

She tossed and turned all night, thinking about how her fairy tale kiss with a real-life fairy tale prince felt like anything but true love. 

*******

After the Incident, after Jax and the kiss, Gilly fell into a depressive slump. Her letters to Anna and her family slowly stopped (there was nothing to tell), she politely declined when her friends wanted to go out (she’d just weigh them down), and her grades gradually dropped (it was all so _tedious_ ).

The reform students were always throwing parties deep into the night, just under the teachers’ noses. When they first heard of them, she and Kayla promised each other that they’d never attend one, that they were pointless wastes of time where people got hurt. But Kayla wasn’t around to tell her it was a mistake, probably too busy making mistakes of her own.

Gilly saw a side of the school she’d only heard about in rumors whispered between classes. Shoved into a small, dark room — probably a dorm? — she experienced peers she’d known since she was twelve in a twisted, dirty way.

People kept offering her drinks that smelled funky. Boys she’d never so much as seen before asked her to dance. The _dancing_ , oh, God — she felt this sort of second-hand embarrassment watching the way kids moved, all pressed up against each other, screaming along to deafening music that should have managed to alert _someone_ in authority but never did.

And as much as it disgusted her, she still drank the punch. There was something in it strong enough to knock her out, but amidst the chaos and ruckus, it was all too easy to submit to her anxieties, to let everything just _go_.

However many hours later, she woke up in the dorm of a furious Maxine Hockler. In her groggy state, Gilly wondered why her friend’s roommate was never around. 

“Is this because of Kayla?” Maxine demanded. She kept asking Gilly questions, and Gilly struggled with them. It was like her brain had been shut off and no one was willing to flip its switch back on.

“ _Whuh_ about Kayla?” She was talking all funny, too. She had trouble making certain words sound right.

Maxine was displeased. Everything Gilly did seemed to piss her off more. Pacing around the room, she clarified, “I haven’t seen her around, and ever since _that night_ , you’ve been acting so carelessly.”

“Sure,” replied Gilly.

Maxine sighed and folded her arms. “Gilly, do you… _like_ Kayla?”

“Gotta,” Gilly had responded breezily. “She’s _mah_ best friend.”

“No, I mean… do you _love_ Kayla? Like I love Ollie?”

Ollie. Still Maxine’s boyfriend, even after all that time. They’d probably get married, Gilly had thought. They’d be happy together.

But that meant Maxine was implying the same thing about Kayla and herself. That she wanted to marry Kayla and live happily ever after with her. 

Gilly stared at the wall for a long time, very sad and very tired. Finally, to Maxine’s dismay, she muttered a response. 

“Nah. I just think she’s sexy.”

*******

It was a lie. A horrible, drunken, bold-faced lie.

(Kayla _was_ sexy. _Is_ sexy. That much was true.)

Kayla wasn’t _just_ sexy, though. She wasn’t just a pretty face. She was… 

_Well_ , Gilly had told Maxine later on, _think about it this way_. The sun is a conceited piece of crap. It’s so big, so bright, it can’t help but force an army of planets to revolve around it. But the sun’s in the clear, because without it, those planets would die. Maybe not the hunk of rock itself, but whatever makes the planet up. Like Earth, for example. Without the sun, all the people and trees and animals and everything would cease to exist. So who can blame the sun for being so self-centered, right? An entire solar system depends on it.

Kayla was the sun. Gilly was the solar system, the planets, spinning endlessly around her, unable to get too close, lest she go up in flames.

*******

Boys make girls happy.

It’s one of those rules that’s never called as such but very well is. Boys are supposed to be this all-consuming source of happiness that can fix the darkest of problems with their mere presence. That’s what the books say. That’s what all the parents and teachers say. And Gilly guessed that, one day, some boy or girl would make her feel like the heroine of a romance novel. 

As much as she loves him, that boy will never be Jax.

Maybe the timing was just wrong. Maybe she was so caught up in her complicated feelings with Kayla that she couldn’t possibly give that sort of attention to anyone else. But every moment she spent as Jax’s ‘girlfriend’ was absolutely miserable.

It wasn’t him. It definitely wasn’t him. It was Gilly’s own problem, because Jax— Jax was _perfect_.

But Gilly didn’t want perfect. She wanted messy and confusing and difficult. She wanted selfish and exhausting and needy. She wanted everything Kayla was and nothing Jax was.

She told Jax as much. She knows he cried all that night (Ollie told Maxine told her), and she knows she broke his heart (he started graffiting the insides of desks with poetry about her), but it had to be done. Sooner or later, he wouldn’t have been happy dating someone who didn’t want him back.

*******

Maxine watched, petrified, as Gilly tore through her dorm room in hot pursuit. 

“Gilly-girl,” she said, and Gilly cringed, because that was what _Kayla_ used to call her. “It’s just a book. Not even a school book! Just some thriller you told Ollie you didn’t even like that much. _Please_ , could you just _stop_ for one second?”

Gilly grit her teeth. “Screw what I told Ollie.” 

She _needed_ this book, and there was nothing to discuss. It was Trixie’s favorite, the signed copy she’d swiped from a noble girl eons ago. Trixie asked Gilly to take it with her to F.T.R.S, as a reminder of her family back home. 

She’d been so careful. She was sure she’d brought it to Maxine’s dorm when she moved in. 

Which meant, of course, if it wasn’t in Maxine’s room, it was in _her_ old room. As in, the one where Kayla lived. She didn’t want to accept that. And yet she found herself stomping down the hall, cutting the corners and shoving classmates out of her way, oblivious to Maxine’s squawks of protest.

When she reached the door, she hesitated. She hadn’t seen Kayla since the Incident. What if she was in there now? There was no way Gilly could handle an encounter with her. But she couldn’t hear any noise coming from inside, and, _God_ , everything aside, she couldn’t let Trixie down. The poor girl was almost a teenager and had no one to lean on back at home. The least Gilly could do was honor her memory by retrieving the book.

 _But Kayla_ , said her thoughts. Always. She was constantly thinking about Kayla, worrying about Kayla, ranting about Kayla. She was obsessed, there was no denying it. So then she wondered, _Maybe I should see Kayla? Either to figure things out with her or to realize she’s a piece of trash and leave forever_.

(She was well aware that last scenario was never happening.)

In the end, Gilly wasn’t actually given the option to open the door or not because Kayla beat her to it.

*******

There was shouting and name-calling and awful swells of hormonal anger that overtook Gilly’s impulse control. Yet she still found herself sitting silent on her old bed, Kayla perched on the one across from her.

Kayla was a mess, which was what ultimately forced Gilly to back off. The room was a disaster, smelled like a pigsty, and Kayla herself looked like she belonged in one. The only thing she was wearing was one of Gilly’s thick sweatshirts, and it was far too long for her, bunching around her knees. 

This was a version of Kayla that Gilly didn’t believe anyone had ever experienced before. Through heartbreak and depression and rejection, Kayla had always bounced back on her own, had always woken up the next morning with a smile on her face. 

Kayla had looked so defeated, so broken, and Gilly… 

Gilly still thought she was beautiful.

But then Kayla’s dress rode up to her thighs, and Gilly saw the bruises.

It had been Jocelyn. _Jocelyn_ , that sadistic, cold-hearted, good-for-nothing _witch_. She’d been hurting Kayla and Gilly had been too caught up in some nonexistent feud to pay any mind. _None_ of her friends had paid any mind, and Kayla had been left scared and alone. 

Gilly wanted to find Jocelyn and she wanted to _rip her fucking throat out_.

Kayla had started crying, though, and Gilly knew she needed to put Kayla before anyone else. The girl had been scarred beyond imagination and she needed comfort. She needed company and shelter and, damnit, she just needed _someone_ , so Gilly was going to be that someone. 

She joined Kayla on her bed and reassured her that she wouldn’t be leaving again. She told her she would be Kayla’s crutch, her confidant — she’d be whatever she needed Gilly to be, as long as it kept her safe. She swore she’d never let Jocelyn waltz into their room again. She swore she’d beat _anyone_ who tried to touch her to a bloody pulp. 

After hours of sobbing and whispering, Kayla hugged Gilly. Very gently. Very quietly.

Something shifted between them.

* * *

Two months later, it’s the night of the farewell Ball and Gilly’s watching Kayla from above a novel.

It’s actually the third book in her favorite series, and normally when she gets ahold of a copy she’s completely consumed in the story from start to finish, but at the moment, she finds her roommate much more interesting than some dinky romance romp.

Kayla’s applying eye-makeup (God forbid Gilly remember its proper name) to touch-up, not that she needs it. As per usual, Kayla looks stunning — gold, satin gown to match her wings, with a slit running up her left leg and this fluffy scarf thing around her shoulders. Her hair has three small braids in it: two above each ear that meet behind her skull, trapping the larger one on top her head in their cross-hairs. 

Gilly’s wearing a navy tuxedo she borrowed from Jax (it’s much too long in some areas and too tight in others, but she couldn’t care less), and her hair, unworkable as normal, is pulled back into a high ponytail. She’s well aware she isn’t stunningly photogenic like her comrade, and she doesn’t intend to pretend she is.

“Hey, Gilly-girl,” Kayla calls, meeting her gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “See something you like?”

Well, _obviously_ , considering Gilly’s still head-over-heels after all this time, but her mouth works faster than her brain, and she snips, “No, of course not.”

The color drains from her cheeks as she realizes that’s probably a total turn-off thing to say to your crush.

Kayla just smiles, though, and returns to doing her makeup.

Gilly reads exactly nothing from her book in the five minutes before Kayla joins her on the bed. The pixie lays her head on Gilly’s shoulder and skims the pages.

“Cute,” she comments, “I have no clue what any of those words mean. Hey—”

She pushes the book out of Gilly’s hands, letting it flop unceremoniously onto the bed, and positions herself in front of Gilly so that their knees touch.

“You ready to party?” Kayla asks, and she’s looking at Gilly with those gorgeous eyes of a goddess, and she loses her train of thought for a second.

“You ready to graduate?” she fires back.

Kayla’s smile falls. “Hardly. I already miss everyone and we haven’t even left yet. It won’t be the same.” She pauses. “Plus, my parents aren’t over the whole ‘getting them turned into trees’ thing.”

Gilly watches as Kayla’s sleeve falls ever-so-daintily down her shoulder, and carefully pulls it back into place. Without meeting her stare, she says, “You can always stay with me, you know. The more, the merrier. Besides, Papa’s new house could fit five families the size of mine.”

Kayla leans into her, almost on instinct. “I might take you up on that. Then you’d never get rid of me.”

Gilly looks up, and her heart does somersaults because Kayla is just. that. _close_.

“Gilly…” Kayla starts. “You know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right?”

And then Kayla takes her by the neck, meets her lips with her own, and _oh_ . This is what the storybooks are always talking about. This feeling, this light that’s shining through Gilly, enveloping her whole— this is magic. _This is magic_. More than any wand or spell will ever be. This girl wrapped around her, this girl moving her lips against Gilly’s like they’re about to die, this girl is pure, raw magic, and it’s overwhelming.

When they part, Gilly finds her arms draped across Kayla’s waist, and when Kayla rests her forehead on Gilly’s, she allows her eyes to flutter shut.

“Yeah.” Gilly smiles. “You’re pretty great, too.”


End file.
